The Honest Reaction To The Bizarre
by Singular Poisonous Ashes
Summary: As is in the title, Harry Potter's true reaction when confronted with being forced to mate with Draco. Not slash.  May probably continue more little stories about this Harry, in a oneshot series. May not act in chronical order. Suicidal warning by Draco.


Disclaimer: don't own.

Malfoy had changed. No longer did he seem immaculate and untouchable. No longer did he look handsome, either, not with his suddenly blotted skin, the bags underneath his eyes. Not to mention how he was huffing and puffing like he'd just ran a marathon (and smelling much the same.) No, Malfoy had definitely changed, if change was based upon his appearance. He stood before the Golden Trio in the great hall. His eyes were practically begging them to pity him - as if he had ever done anything that might be worth their pity, outside of being a fountain of racist insults and false boasts and pathetic hubris.

Harry stood there as his counterpart - healthy, confident, and yet as modest as can be. It was a joy to know him - to befriend him especially. And yet, the sight Malfoy made was something that did not affect him in the least, not like it did his friends standing next to him at either sides. They were almost like bodyguards, but bodyguards knew better than to feel pity towards the enemy. And Malfoy was the enemy - Harry was not about to make such a mistake.

At the moment, he was bent over, tears in his eyes, laughter freely exiting from the restriction of his vocal cords.  
''You want me (me!) to mate with you, like some kind of animal?" here he smiled again and his cheeks felt like they were crying out from the strain, ''Just so you wouldn't die because you're a male veela?'' Harry could not believe his eyes - that Malfoy, his sworn enemy, had reduced himself to begging for Harry's hand. How could he even bend his neck? How could he even stand the humiliation of being underneath the raven-haired mocking regard?

Admittedly, however - Harry had already realized Malfoy was a veela, even before his friends had ever so rudely tugged him out of his bed and made him travel to this place, at night, where there weren't any witnesses. He'd done his research on Veela, too - rather than listen to the biased accounts of those around him or the distorted accounts of folklore he'd found in Hogwarts library.

The internet was ever so useful, and no muggleborn with even the slightest hint of self regard would abandon useful, useful technology just because they could now, hypothetically, live lazily without having to lift a single finger or kill someone without leaving any traces of their presence behind. (Harry had always found it hilarious that more than ninety procent of magic had been made up to be used as a weapon, in some way, and the remaining ten procent based upon making life more convenient.)

So, Harry knew, for example, that Veela did not particularly hold above average looks (beauty was often a cultural thing, after all, so that would be impossible), Veela just gave of scented hormones that affected those that already held an interest in their specific sex.

Now, Harry was completely straight, so it came as to no surprise that Harry could not be blinded into 'loving' Malfoy. He simply saw the ugliness everyone else did (There was a reason Malfoy only hung out with those two bodyguards of them who were forced to be friendly towards him, and it was not because he had lots of friends.)

Hermione looked at him with desperation, and squeezed Ron's hand. They knew he would blow up, but knew that the Harry they knew (the selfish hero they knew from the stories Ron had been spoon-fed and those Hermione had integrated into her belief system as all books were true) he would give in, even if it went against his personal wishes.

Of course, Harry was so selfless, he would be happy that he could save Malfoy. Besides, the veela's chosen mate would find the veela irresistible since birth after all. And Harry had been so obsessed with hurting Malfoy, who was in return as obsessed towards him.

What the pair didn't know was that Harry contrarily to popular knowledge was completely asexual. And straight, to boot. Which meant, had Malfoy been female he would still not have had the slightest notion of love and affection for the bastard.  
And that was so incredible amusing- Malfoy had to have become ''soulmates'' with Harry, who was anything but what he displayed to the public (not at his own behest, but as a consequence to the severely inflated account the newspapers had given on how Harry had survived Voldermort's avada.)

Harry suffered long at the notion that he was gay, all called by the ones who knew him most. Not that there was anything wrong with that - but people acted as if it had to be wrong, as if he had to have a healthy sex drive to be considered 'normal.'

Once, in primary school, when reading a biology textbook, he'd immediately identified with the label. But when he spoke of this to the teacher, in an pragmatic attempt to get more information, he was rebuked. The woman questioned him on whether he'd gone through something scarring, sexual wise. The woman questioned him on whether or not he'd told his guardians about this, and had been to a doctor to find out if there was something wrong with his body that made him like that.

There wasn't, to her information, not that she'd taken his word. Alright, it didn't help that he was the extreme version of asexuality - aromantic, it was called - and hence did not wish for any sexually tinted contact with anyone. What was it about privates that got people so worked up, honestly?  
In any case, they'd thought he was gay because he hadn't appreciated Ginny's advances (who would, when they were based upon an idolised version of him?) and so he'd put her down - gently at first - and that was apparently enough to garner wonder about which gender he preferred.

In truth, he didn't like Ginny because her outer persona may have seen pleasing for anyone with an sex drive, if they were straight.  
And that was the problem; as what he searched for in a play thing was personality that would please him. And Ginny held a hidden hideousness that didn't bear bartering about.

And so the Weasley family, who couldn't believe that Harry, who was somewhat like a son to them could put her down like the dog she was, they invented a perfectly good reason. And then started to believe in that lie, multiplying it with anyone who cared to know, so they could hide the true reason he had turned her down.

Like the fact that she used all the boyfriends she had before him as distractions out of her own woe, breaking their hearts in the process and not too gently either. And then she would act all innocent, like she had no idea what someone was talking about if her boyfriends started confessing her crimes.

Admittedly, that was a bit harsh. Harry didn't have the full story on her relationships, but even he couldn't work on pure logic alone. His dislike of her coloured every interaction of hers that he heard about. It was her prerogative what to do with those she discarded.

Ah, being asexual was really just an miracle. ''Prove it!'' he demanded of the veela.  
Truthfully, an scheme was breaming in his mind. A truly ugly, hideous scheme. He'd never told anyone he hadn't such a characteristic.  
But it was the way someone saw him that counted, and if someone saw him different then they had expected they turned and looked at him actions, making up motives wherein the outlook they had of him remained unchanged.

Veela Malfoy sucked in breath like a locomotive, and two beautiful white wings broke free from his back.  
The pair looked open mouthed at this spectacle. Harry wasn't impressed, however, and outed that.

"How do I know you haven't just gained half completed animagus skills?'' Harry made sure to sound disbelieving- not darkly amused as he was in the middle of being. Everyone knew that the first thing on becoming an Animagus was to create or transform body parts into others from their animal, like wings or claws or fur or scales.

The pair of lovebirds, his supposed best friends mouths opened in shock.  
''Bloody hell!'' came from Ron and "I never thought about that!'' was marveled by the supposedly brightest witch of this century.  
Really, who was she trying to fool? Where she so smart, then she would stun him whenever he tried to do something reckless cause he was bored. (That was the real reason he'd gone after the troll in first year, and defeated the snake in second year, and all those other plots by Voldermort, not his saving people thing which totally didn't exist.) Yes, Harry was heartless and knew it.

Veela Malfoy became pale and he stuttered. ''Try to do the animagus revealing potion! You'll see!'' he tried to say.  
And yet Harry had a reason for that to be wrong too- and it wasn't even a lie. His mouth stretched in a parody of a grin.  
The pair exchanged a look. ''Harry,'' Hermione began, probably to say that he should get some of that potion, just to be sure.

His friends were so refreshing- completely different from himself.  
So naively trusting in the way things worked, so unlike him who'd been left out like the trash whenever it rained, back in Prive Drive, and he could catch his death out there.

"The animagus potion only works if you've managed to do it completely, everyone knows that!" Hermione closed her mouth with an audible click, and looked put out while Ron put his arm round her shoulder, concerned. Her feelings of self worth came from her magic prowess.  
If she couldn't even know that piece of information, while Harry, a person who couldn't make a potion to save his live could, what would that make her.

Harry was disinterested in her feelings. It was rather pathetic of her.  
She, just like all those calling themselves purebloods believed that muggleborns weren't good, had the need to prove she wasn't like them herself. She didn't hold any regard for herself, and perceived her family as shameful.

It was why, despite being friends for years, neither him and Ron had caught more than a few brief glimpses from Mrs and Mr Granger. And Ron was her boyfriend. What did that say about her?

That was alright though. Hermione was still Harry's friend, despite her personal failings. It took all kinds to make a world, and it wasn't as if she was disloyal to him, even if she and Ron did get some pretty idiotic ideas in their heads, now and then.

Now Veela Malfoy had a look of pure desperation and fear on his face as they began doubting him.  
''Maybe,'' Ron began thoughtfully,''You are just lying out your arse so you can kill Harry in bed when he was defenseless, or to break his heart! You creep!''  
Ron gave Malfoy a look, and Harry was hard pressed not to laugh out loud. This was even better then what he had thought Ron's action would have been!

Hermione looked at him with pity now, "How could you do that to Harry,'' she whispered like it had already happened. It echoed through the void great hall, ''And we trusted you!''

"B-but,'' Veela Malfoy rambled as Hermione and Ron both threw companionable arms around Harry, leading him away from Malfoy while trying to console the silently crying Harry.  
What he was really doing was silently laughing so hard he couldn't breath and tears were falling from his eyes. He hugged his friends.  
''I love you guys, really,'' he said with complete sincerity. Ron looked briefly alarmed.  
''I'm not-'' but before he could say anything Hermione thoughtfully threw an mufilatus at him.

She was smart enough, at least, or had enough common sense to know that he meant it in an purely platonic way.  
Besides, he said you guys instead of simply Ron, and he was gay.  
Or so she thought, and unfortunately the rest of the peanut galore which was the wizarding world agreed with her on that fact.

The great hallsdoor slammed behind them, and they left the broken Veela boy to sob in peace. (Not that the oblivious pair knew that while consoling Harry who didn't need it)  
Nobody was there to hear his agonized screams as the wings that still stood out of his flesh crumbled, and how his face was turning pale blue from lack of breath. His chosen mate had rejected him, and the only thing that that resulted in was an veela's self inflicted death.  
Later on it would be seen as suicide, and only the guilt filled Ron and Hermione and valiantly amused Harry knew the truth.

Harry took on the appearance of being incredible shattered, that he hadn't seen the so called ''lie'' for what it was.  
Hermione and Ron were quick to berate him for going into his shell again. It wasn't his fault, they murmured to the inconsolable actor at nights he had insomnia and felt bored enough to act melodramatic. There had been an lack of evidence that Malfoy was a Veela, and how sad had that been, but it would have been worse if Malfoy really had been planning something diabolical, they would confess when pressed.

It was to no surprise, for all of them that he immediately presumed the worst at the end of that-year about his god fathers seeming captivity, and broke into the Ministry of Magic with only a group of school children and their wands against the Dark Lord and his minions who where half crazed. (He hadn't studied for the exams- truly, it was the only way that he could postpone them to do later on. Wrecking his education and as such his future prospects wasn't Harry's idea of 'fun', no matter how careless he acted.)

A/N My own interpretation on what Harry would do when forced to ''mate'' with his arch enemy who he admittedly hated more then Voldermort.


End file.
